High Magic
by earth-dragon-1
Summary: Sam believes in magic really he does.


"Mr. Frodo, Do you believe in magic?"

"Oh, Sam-lad, what a question. Of course I believe in magic." Frodo answered, smiling as the tow-headed bairn climbed onto his knee. "I've seen and read far too many things not to believe in magic."

Sam's sweet brown eyes shown with curiosity and he sat at full attention. "Like what?"

"Well, like all of those Elven tales Bilbo likes to teach us. They have magic, do they not?"

Sam nodded enthusiastically; his honeyed curls bobbing. He loved Mr. Bilbo's Elven tales and longed to live like an adventurer of old. Oh, if it were only within his power he would wake up this sleepy old Shire!

Mr. Frodo continued: "The Silmarils with their great powers, Elves that can read minds and brew potions, warriors who slay ferocious beasts with their enchanted weapons -- you've heard all of the old tales and they have magic."

Again little Sam nodded. "Oh, yes!" He practically squealed.

"And don't forget Gandalf. Why, Gandalf is a real wizard, and you yourself have met him Samwise Gamgee. You've seen his fireworks and the way he can blow smoke from his pipe. Surely all of that is enough to make you believe in magic."

"Oh yes, Mr. Frodo; I do!" Sam answered gleefully." I was just wonderin', seein' as you know so much about it an' all, can you do magic?" He asked hopefully, picturing Frodo waving Gandalf's staff about or brandishing an enchanted Elven crystal. If Mr. Frodo knew magic, maybe someday he would teach him.

Frodo's eyes went wide and then he laughed. "Me? No Sam, I can't do magic. That's only for the high and fair folk, like Elves and wizards, not for little Hobbits like us."

Sam's heart crashed back down in his chest and he was flooded with disappointment; he tried not to show it because Frodo had been so kind to explain it all to him, but his eyes still lost their sparkle. "Oh, well I was just wonderin'." He said, and he hopped down from Frodo's lap. "Thanks for telling' me about it, Mr. Frodo, but I best be gettin' back." He started to turn away, back for home and whatever chores might still remain for him there.

Frodo suddenly reached out and tipped up Sam's chin, making Sam look back up at him again. "Sam, my lad, I've an idea. Why don't we pack up supper and take it down to the brook. We'll still have plenty of daylight left, and your Gaffer won't mind if you're with me. We can read an old tale or two if you like. What do you say?"

Sam's face instantly lit up again. "Oh! Alright Mr. Frodo, if you'd like to."

Frodo smiled and tapped Sam on the nose. "I'd like to very much."

"You was right, Mr. Frodo." Sam muttered, recalling words from long ago as he choaked on Mt. Doom's burning ash; his mind and body finally, thankfully, beginning to sink into oblivion.

"What?" Frodo wheezed beside him.

Sam drew a deep, ragged breath, (what had to be one of his last) and let the dense remorse that he had kept so long at bay creep through his veins at last.. "Magic's not for the likes of us; it never was. Seem's we had to learn tha' the hard way."

Frodo could speak no more but grasped Sam's hand as they collapsed to their backs upon their rock and waited for death.

"You said once, far back at the beginnin' of this quest, that I'd be a wizard or a warrior; seemin'ly I've been both now, but I had no business bein' either!" Sam remembered an innocent time, so very long ago, when he thought he had wanted to be. If his eyes had tears to spare in the ash and soot he would shed them now for innocence lost. He remembered thinking if he could do magic he would slay all dragons, give his sisters pretty jewels, make sure the Shire harvests were always bountiful, and stop that nasty Sandyman from swindling honest hobbits. Such a folly to ever have thought that way. Why, even a wizard such as Gandalf couldn't control the kind of magic he and Frodo had seen.

Beside him Frodo slept, or was already dead. The pounding in Sam's head drowned out all noise and the raining fire rendered his eyes useless. Sam knew the darkness would soon take him and he squeezed Frodo's hand tight.

So this was what his once-coveted magic had wrought? The world's greatest known evil, a crumbling mountain, and the deaths of thousands, including two little Hobbits. Magic had caused all of this. Could it be used to once again set everything to rights? Sam didn't know. Oh, Sam still believed in magic -- in the existence of it -- for certain. How could he not after all he had seen! It was the practicing of it that he now called into question. Maybe some things ought not be meddled with, even by the high and fair folk.

Sam gathered the very last of his strength and rolled to his side. Frodo was just a blurry outline to him now, but he still clasped his hand, and he guided himself closer. Frodo couldn't hear his words now (for that matter Sam could barely even say them) but he was glad of it; Sam didn't want Frodo to have to bear his final bitterness, even if he could no longer contain it within himself now that they were at the end of all things. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, I didn't want to believe you, even after all this, but you was right. You was always right."

Blackness deeper than Moria surrounded Sam then, and he welcomed it.

"Oh, Frodo, it's really not so special." Sam squirmed.

"Oh yes it is, Samwise Gamgee, or I should say Samwise _Gardener_!" Frodo smirked and secured his hold on Sam's arm, tugging him along.

"Well, not so's we need to go disturbin' --" Sam gasped as the very people he was about to mention rounded the corner and looked straight into his blushing face.

Frodo continued on smoothly, eagerly. "Master Elrond, Gandalf, we were just looking for you. Look at what Sam has done!"

All eyes turned to Sam and he ducked his head, but held up the small pot with the gold and blue flower bedded snuggly inside. Elrond and Gandalf peered at the star-shaped petals curiously, and Frodo beamed. Sam felt his face burn hot.

Elrond's narrow brows pinched together. "Is that…"

"The Elanor flower." Gandalf finished stately, his voice gravely, but interested.

"Yes!" Frodo answered, smiling wide.

Elrond lifted the pot from Sam's hands for a closer inspection. "Samwise how did you manage this magic?"

Sam's head snapped up. "Magic! T'weren't no magic, Master Elrond. I just crossed the Elanor with the bluebell flower, is all. I just wanted the blue and gold colors together, if I could."

"But no Elf gardener has ever produced a flower such as this." Elrond said; "You must have used some kind of magic."

Sam was astonished. No Elf had ever crossed the Elanor before? Then how could he have possibly done so? He gaped back and forth from Frodo (who looked equally astonished) to Gandalf (who looked amused) as if one of them could explain. "Honestly, sir, I used no magic. I just kept tryin' at it till I found what made it work. 'Tis strange, but this flower seems to like as much moonlight as it does sunlight, and fares best when planted under a full moon."

Sam hesitated then, not sure how much they would really want to hear, but both Elrond and Gandalf nodded encouragingly, so he continued on. "And it don't take much water, but every now and again it likes a bit of a drink from the sea, almost as if, well, almost as if it knows it has roots not only here in Valinor but back in Lothlorian and the Shire too. And 'o course I always give new plants a bit of blessin' when I sow 'em; just seems to help 'em on their way."

The corners of Elrond's mouth curled and his eyes sparkled; he stared hard down at Sam. "So, you use natural elements, such as the moon and water, in a methodical and complementary fashion, and you chant blessings?"

Sam refrained from ducking his head again, though he sorely wanted to, and answered quietly. "Y-yes."

Elrond rolled his eyes to Gandalf and they exchanged a smile. "And is that NOT magic?"

They all stood in silence as Sam opened and closed his mouth, unable to answer.

Elrond raised the pot again. "Have you anymore of these, Sam Gardener?"

Sam nodded mutely.

"Then might I have this one? And perhaps you would be willing to teach some of the others here so that we might be able to grow them ourselves?"

Again, Sam just nodded.

Elrond thanked Sam, and he and Gandlaf said farewell and took their leave, taking the prized flower with them. Sam turned to Frodo and let his breath out in a whoosh. "I -- I -- Oh Frodo, I don't believe that!"

Frodo clasped both of his hands tightly, his face shining with excitement. "And you said it was nothing special! You see, Sam, you really have become a wizard."

"Oh, tha', tha' can't really be magic, can it? The moon, and the water, and the blessing -- that's magic?"

"Elrond and Gandalf says it is."

Sam's brow furrowed a bit, remembering way back. "But you always said magic weren't for the likes of us. Magic is for Elves and wizards; for the high and fair folk."

Frodo's smile softened and became tender. He reached up and brushed his fingers across Sam's cheek and into his hair, cupping Sam's face. "And who are you, Samwise Gamgee, my love, if not the highest and fairest of all folk?"


End file.
